


Lessons

by Runan



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Xeno, mild bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:10:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runan/pseuds/Runan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a species equipped with a goddamn genuine <i>tentacle penis</i>, troll sex is surprisingly vanilla.  Dave takes advantage of a bet with Sollux to rectify this travesty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the kink meme.

You’d lost the bet. You’d actually lost the bet.  
  
You and Dave had been more than a little drunk at the time you’d come up with it, sprawled on the floor with a small solar system of empty beer cans in orbit around you. Booze, as it turned out, had the same effect on trolls as it did on humans. Good to know.  
  
You have no idea how the topic of sex had come up—wait, you were a pair of drunken, horny teenagers, scratch that.  
  
“No, look,” you were saying. “Pailing ith pailing, there’th like…not much to it. I mean, it feelth good, don’t get me wrong”—and here you’d given Dave your best sexy leer, but if the expression on his face was anything to go by, it was not entirely successful—“but the droneth aren’t judging you on thtyle, they don’t give a shit ath long ath the bucket’th full.”  
  
Dave clapped a hand over his heart. “Tragic, Captor,” he drawled in mock-horror. “Fuckin’ _tragic_ , is what it is. You guys got, like, tentacle dicks and horns and shit, all the fuckin’ flavors of the rainbow, and all this time you’ve been having the most vanilla sex imaginable. I’m sheddin’ a single manly tear for troll-kind.”  
  
The dim lights of the room softened his sharp features, or at least the ones he didn’t hide. You wished you could see more of him.  
  
The pleasant haze of alcohol had you feeling bold and stupid, and you wiggled closer until your face was only inches from his. Your softly glowing eyes were half-lidded. “Let’th make a bet,” you purred. “If you can beat me at Grub Culler, I will allow you to demonthtrate your thuperior human pailing methodth.” You were smirking now. “You can do aaaaaanything you want to me.”  
  
Dave’s face was inscrutable behind those damn shades of his. “Really. I dunno, Captor, you think you can handle all this?”  
  
“Bring it, Thtrider.”   
  
——-  
  
And now here you were, on your back in Dave’s bed as he tied your wrists to the headboard, your clothes long-since discarded. Your heart was pounding.  
  
You’d never really given much thought to your body before…well, before Dave, but you were suddenly conscious of how _skinny_ you were, how the shape of your bones stood out clearly beneath your skin. It was normal, you knew—psionic powers burned off virtually every calorie you ate, you literally _couldn’t_ store fat. You wish that maybe your ribs didn’t jut out quite so much, though.   
  
“I thtill thay you cheated.”  
  
“Dude, we’ve been over this. My victory was totally legit. Now shut up and hold still.”  
  
You give your arms an experimental tug. “I don’t get it. What’th the point of thith? I feel thtupid.”  
  
Dave ran a reassuring hand down your thigh, and you shivered slightly. “The point is that you shut up and let D-Stri school you in the ways of the human horizontal tango. Hush, babe, only sexy times now.”  
  
You gaped up at him for a moment. “Thometimeth I wonder why I pity you. Then I remember you’ve got thith horrible condition where wordth come out of your mouth.”  
  
A tiny grin flashed across Dave’s face. “Guess my first lesson will be showing you what _else_ I can do with my mouth.  
  
Then he lowered his head between your legs, and you experience a brief moment of horror at the sight of _teeth_ near your bulge holy shit what is he do—  
  
You throw your head back and open your mouth in a wordless cry as his tongue trails over your sheath. Your bulge, which had up until this point been only slightly exposed, races out to join the party, writhing against your stomach and leaving a glistening trail in its wake. You are overwhelmed by sensations you didn’t even know could exist.  
  
“Oh my god,” you blurt out as Dave’s tongue traces the ridge on the underside of your bulge. Then he’s moving down, and suddenly there’s something warm and wet swirling against your nook. It pauses briefly before pushing inside and driving virtually every coherent thought from your thinkpan.


	2. Chapter 2

You’d won the bet. You’d actually won the bet.  
  
If anyone asked you how long you and Sollux had had this…thing going on, you’d offer a casual shrug and a “Dunno.” That’s not true, of course—you can count every single second that’s passed since a night of video games turned into a night of sloppy make-outs, which eventually turned into something more. Knight of Time, and all that. You’re still not sure _how_ it happened, but you know better than to question a good thing.  
  
And after the obligatory freak-out over each other’s junk, you’d pretty much decided that trolls had hit the jackpot in the pants department. Or maybe it’s you who’s hit the jackpot. The first time you’d slid your dick into the hot, clinging confines of his nook, you’d made a noise he’d teased you about for weeks.  
  
So the sex was great. But Sollux had never shown the slightest inclination towards experimenting, and there were things you _itched_ to do with him. To him.  
  
Of course, thinking about it was one thing. Bringing it up in the course of casual conversation was slightly more awkward. _Sup Captor you feel like pizza or Chinese tonight also I want to tie you up and eat you out and maybe stick a vibrator up your nook oh hey you wanna try that new Thai place_. You’d all but resigned yourself to keeping your fantasies between you and Dave Jr. until Sollux had slurred out that challenge.  
  
You buried your tongue as deep as you could in his nook, sweeping it across the slightly ridged inner walls and reveling in the choked-off squeal it earned you. Then you pulled back slightly, licking the swollen flesh that ringed his opening and giving the junction of sheath and nook a brief nudge before diving back inside.  
  
Genetic material was starting to leak out now, the semi-clear yellow stuff that Sollux had explained was to help lube everything up (your words, not his). You could feel it smearing against your mouth as you worked up a rhythm.  
  
Suddenly there were a pair of skinny thighs clamped around your neck, and you gently pried them apart as you sit up. “Dude, ease up, I gotta breathe,” you snort, amused.  
  
“Thtrider, don’t you dare fucking thtop,” Sollux snarled in reply, and you take a moment to admire your work. You know he’s a little self-conscious about his body, but you love his narrow planes and sharp angles, pieced together in a way that’s not _quite_ human. He’s spread out beneath you, flushed and panting, and you can see a bead of yellow blood on his mouth where he’s bitten his lip. And he’s like this because of you.  
  
Yeah, you’re kind of awesome.  
  
You dip your head back down slowly, just to make him squirm with impatience. The minute your tongue brushes his nook he whimpers, and the sound goes straight to your dick. You have to take a few deep breaths to regain your composure—Christ, Sollux made the most incredible noises—and then you push back inside. By now he’s so slick he’s practically dripping, and you have to hold his thighs steady as he tries to buck against you, wanting you deeper.  
  
From previous experience, you know there’s a little groove with a kind of fleshy bump in the middle further up his nook—it’s got some long ridiculous troll name, bluh bluh pleasure something. You’ve got some different names for it, all of which make Sollux roll his eyes. For a while now you’ve wondered whether or not you could reach it with your tongue, and hey, whaddya know, now seems like the perfect opportunity to find out.  
  
You tilt your head slightly and push your tongue as deep as it can go, sweeping it around as you searched for that elusive nub. Above you, Sollux’s breaths are coming in rhythmic little moans, and his thighs are shaking under your hands.  
  
 _C’mon, c’mon, where is…ah ha!_  
  
When you finally find what you’re looking for, Sollux’s entire body spasms and he _keens_ , high and loud and not even slightly human.


	3. Chapter 3

You used to tease Dave, sometimes, about his useless blunt human teeth. You’re not sure why, since your own aren’t exactly a paragon of dental perfection. But hey, at least they were sharp.  
  
Right now you can’t remember why that was a good thing, though.  
  
You strain against the cloth binding you to the headboard, trying and failing to stifle the various embarrassing noises that seem determined to come out of your mouth. When Dave had first tied you up you’d been baffled—pailing was kind of a mutual thing, how were you supposed to do your part if you couldn’t move? Could an entire alien race really be _that bad_ at reproduction?  
  
You crane your neck down to watch Dave’s head as it bobbed between your legs, mesmerized, and you’re willing to concede that wow yeah okay maybe humans knew what they were doing after all. You still couldn’t quite believe anyone would be willing to do…what he’s doing, but you also never want him to stop.  
  
Then Dave’s tongue finds your vestigial pleasure nub-gland and _oh dear sweet Mother Grub_. You can feel every inch of it, hot and wet and relentless as it laps at you, not letting up for a moment. Coherent thought stutters to a halt in a burst of mental static as you throw your head back against the pillow. You think maybe that loud keening noise is you, and normally you’re a little self-conscious about that sort of thing, but right now you can’t focus on anything except the incredible throbbing waves of sensation pulsing through your nook.  
  
“Fuck,” you half sob when you’re capable of speech again, “Dave, fuck, yeth, _there_ , oh god pleathe don’t thtop…”  
  
You kind of can’t believe the words that are coming out of your mouth. You and Dave joke around sometimes about making each other beg for it, but neither of you has ever actually succeeded. You figured that was something that only happened in porn and wriggler’s first wet dream, anyway.  
  
…Dave’s going to be an insufferable prick for _weeks_ about this, isn’t he.  
  
Another swirl of his tongue around your nub-gland has you arching your back helplessly, your toes curling against the sheets, and you decide that you don’t care because this is _totally worth it_.  
  
Your hips start bucking upwards almost of their own accord, desperate for more, but Dave only grips your thighs tighter and pins you down, spreading your legs a little wider. You let out a strangled gasp as his tongue explores the walls of your nook for a moment before dragging it back over your nub-gland, torturously slow.  
  
There are little sparks skating across your body, but you keep your psionics tightly in check—Dave had insisted that you “leave your freaky alien mind voodoo” out of this. You doubt you’d have much control over them anyway right now, and accidentally frying your partner mid-pail is pretty much as un-sexy as it gets. Still, the occasional twinge of electricity against your overheated skin only heightens your senses, and you whimper pathetically.  
  
It occurs to you suddenly to wonder what Dave could possibly be getting out of this. He’s got both hands on your legs, so you know he’s not touching himself. But he wouldn’t be doing this unless _something_ about it was good for him, right? You doubt even his stupid irony shtick would extend this far.  
  
Unless…was it you?  
  
The self-deprecating part of your thinkpan immediately tries to quash the idea— _Wow, Sollux, check your ego_ —but it sticks. Was he really doing it just to see you like this, see you writhing beneath him, hear you moan and whimper and beg, powerless against the waves of pleasure wracking your body? Did he enjoy having you at his mercy?  
  
And holy fuck, why is the thought of that so insanely hot?


	4. Chapter 4

You pride yourself on your self-control. It kind of amuses you, sometimes, when you catch people doing a double-take at your typical deadpan expression, peering at your shades as if the fact that they can’t see your eyes means you can’t see them. John likes to joke that you’ve kept your face expressionless for so long it would probably crack if you tried for anything more than a raised eyebrow or a tiny coolkid smile. Personally, you just don’t see the point of handing out your emotions for free to complete strangers.  
  
(God forbid you ever say anything like that to Rose, though. You can practically see her eyes lighting up with delight and psychological bullshit.)  
  
So, while you hadn’t exactly been an expert on sex when you and Sollux started messing around, it was only natural that your self-control would extend into that area, too.  
  
Right now, though, that control is starting to fray a little around the edges. And by that you mean your dick may actively be considering mutiny if it doesn’t get in on the action, and _soon_. You’re so hard it hurts, and Sollux isn’t the only one dripping all over the sheets now. Every sound you coax out of him sends a punishing pulse of heat straight to your core.  
  
You swirl your tongue around the little nub one more time before you sit up. Sollux makes a funny little noise, sort of a cross between a whimper and a chirp, and bucks his hips up in protest. “Dave, what the hell, why did you thtop?”  
  
“Because it’s time to put my money where my mouth was. And by money I mean my dick.” You pause, running that line through your head again, and yup, you really did just say those words. “…Okay, I’ll admit that one kind of got away from me.”  
  
Sollux is squirming impatiently beneath you, legs spread and arms tugging futilely at the cloth that binds them. “Then hurry up and fuck me already!”  
  
You have to pause again and take a few deep breaths because wow, you never thought you’d hear Sollux say anything like that. Neither of you do a whole lot of talking during sex—you kind of doubt that’s even a thing with trolls, poor unimaginative bastards.  
  
You decide it’s high-time you _made_ it a thing.  
  
“Ah-ah, not so fast. How ‘bout you show me just how much you want me to?”  
  
You lean back and take a moment to enjoy the jumbled mess of expressions flitting across Sollux’s face. He finally settles on Outraged Disbelief.  
  
“Are all humanth thith thadithtic, or did I jutht get lucky? Theriouthly, Thtrider, I don’t know what the fuck elthe you want me to do. Jutht thtick your bulge in my nook!”  
  
You sigh and shake your head. “Okay, Captor, it’s time for lesson number two. Try not to jizz yourself, I know you’ve got a fetish for that.” You lean down closer, and you think he crosses his eyes as he tries to keep his focus on your face. Heh. Cute. “I want you to _beg_ for it.”  
  
You emphasize your point by licking a stripe up the underside of his neglected bulge, and his entire body spasms. Then you circle his opening with your tongue before pulling away once more and looking down at him expectantly.  
  
He makes that deliciously inhuman keening noise again, bucking his hips against empty air. “F…fuck, Thtri— _Dave_ , thtop teathing me, jutht, pleathe, I need you in me _now_ I’m going to fucking exthplode _pleathe_ …!”  
  
Right. Okay. You’d intended to drag this out a little, but Sollux isn’t the only one getting desperate. You reach down and spread his legs a little wider, swiping your fingers across his nook and smearing some of the yellow goo on your dick with a few good pumps. Then you line yourself up, take a deep breath, and slide home.


	5. Chapter 5

The last few minutes have been almost as torturous as they’ve been pleasurable. The wet roughness of Dave’s tongue against your nub drove you crazy, but without simultaneous pressure on your internal genetic material sac, release hovered frustratingly just out of reach.  
  
When you feel the blunt head of Dave’s bulge—your thinkpan is currently too addled to supply you with the proper alien name for it—bump against your nook, you nearly sob with relief. Human bulges are thicker than normal bulges, and oddly stiff, but after some initial misgivings you’d decided they were actually pretty awesome.  
  
Not that you had much to compare it to, but, well.  
  
Usually you had to take it slow, letting yourself adjust. But by now you’re so wet that Dave just slides right in, and you make an incoherent noise, arching your back. You already know you’re not going to last long.  
  
An answering moan from above takes you by surprise. The patented Strider façade must be cracking—he’s always been so obnoxiously quiet during sex. You wrap your legs around his waist, trying to pull him deeper, and suddenly he’s pounding into you, setting a punishing tempo right out of the gate that you’re only too happy to match. He must have been just as desperate for this as you, you realize, and your ego gets a smug little boost.  
  
“You’re such a little nook-slut, Captor.” Dave’s voice cuts through the haze of pleasure you’re floating in. He’s not even out of breath, the bastard. “Look at you, all spread out and begging to be fucked. Begging to be _used_. Want me to use you, Captor?”  
  
You open your mouth to deny it. “Yeth,” you gasp out instead, “yeth, _pleathe_.”  
  
That’s going to be embarrassing later, but right now you just don’t give a fuck.  
  
“Yeah, thought so.” Dave leans down to nip at your collarbone before running his tongue up your exposed throat. “You want me to fuck you into the mattress, use you as a bucket, and fucking claim you.”  
  
On Alternia no one talked during sex—seriously, what was the point? It would only be an annoying distraction. So you have no idea _why_ Dave’s words are so hot, but each one sends a shivery little thrill up your spine that has you grinding your hips desperately against his. “Yeth, fuck, _yeth_.”  
  
He twists a little, grabbing your legs and hoisting them over his shoulders (he’s made more than one admiring comment about your flexibility). Then he pulls out almost completely before slamming back in, and the new angle has you biting back a scream as his dick— _that’s the word!_ you think deliriously—hits your genetic material sac. You can feel it swelling in preparation for release, and you know it won’t be long now.  
  
“Dave,” you manage to croak out. “Gonna…I need a…”  
  
“Let go, Sollux,” he says, and you want to protest because holy shit, that’s just not _done_ , and you’re torn between instinctive protest and guilty excitement. You’re not a _wriggler_ , you’ve seen a few bucket-less porn vids, but, well, that was porn. The promise of a brutal, bloody death at the hands of the drones kind of put a damper on trying it in real life.  
  
You don’t have long to think about it, though, before the choice is taken out of your hands—one more hard thrust and you’re toppling over the edge. You can feel the warm rush of genetic material as it spurts out around Dave’s dick, which is still buried deep inside. He snaps his hips once, twice, and then the hot torrent of his release joins your own.  
  
For a moment the two of you can only lay there, gasping like a pair of stranded fish. Your nook’s starting to ache a little, though, so you nudge a heel purposefully against Dave’s back. He pulls out as carefully as he can, but you still wince. There’s a trickle of diluted yellow leaking out of you in his wake.  
  
You’re exhausted. You watch blearily as Dave leans over you and unties your hands, then wince again as you massage some feeling back into your poor abused appendages.  
  
“Welp, that concludes your lessons for today, young padawan.” Dave sounds totally composed again, and you are not even a little bit jealous. “And now if we could have a moment of silence for my sheets, which bravely sacrificed themselves and are now totally drenched in a puddle of nasty alien jizz—”  
  
You muster up the energy to smack him, and are gratified to hear a muffled yelp. “That’th what pailth are for, dipshit.”  
  
“Eh. Worth it to watch you squirm in scandalized horror.”  
  
You try and fail to be annoyed—you’re still basking in the pleasant glow of endorphins. “Tho,” you say instead, trying to sound casual. “I’ll admit that your human pailing methodth were pretty good. What’th nektht on the lethon plan?”  
  
The grin that spread oh-so-slowly across Dave’s face was downright predatory.


End file.
